


Shattered Humanity

by imaginivity



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:10:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2012181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginivity/pseuds/imaginivity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoff, Michael, Ray, and Ryan have survived this far, an entire month since their lives turned to shit, so they can obviously keep this going, right? Of course, with no set-in-stone plan in mind, encountering questionable people along their travels, and plenty of death and infection surrounding them, survival won't exactly be easy. Then again, it never had been.</p><p>(Zombie AU where very few of the survivors knew each other prior to the apocalypse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unprepared

Though no one said it, everyone could agree the humidity and heat was unbearable. Four men rested lazily in different parts of a diminutive office building, all in a futile attempt to stay cool.

 “Geoff, when are we leaving this place?” a one of the men asked, lying on the ground with his arms folded under his head. The oldest man of the four person group turned around, a look of thought across his face.

“I dunno. I mean, it seems like we could stay another day or so before we need to find a new place to crash,” he replied as he looked around the small office space they’d holed themselves up in for the past couple of days.  “What do you think, Ryan?” A dirty blonde rubbed at his neck.

“Sure, another day here would be fine I suppose. I’m just getting sick of being cooped up in such a small space for so long,” Ryan stated in an impatient sigh, conscious of the sweat that clung to his skin and dampened his hair.

“Then where’re we heading next?” the man on the floor asked again as he scratched at his shoulder.

“You just love asking questions, huh, Ray?” Geoff retorted with a chuckle and a smug grin.

“Hey, I just like to know our game plan, _if_ we’ve got a game plan.” Ray held his hands up in defense as he sat up from his spot on the linoleum floor. The newest member of the small group glared out the windows all the while, making sure none of the Infected were heading their way. There was no back entrance to the tiny insurance office, so the only exit the group had to worry about was the doorway they entered the building through.

From what the curly haired brunette could see, there weren’t any Infected nearby, but they could be in any of the buildings or cars which seemed so hopelessly empty and dead. He’d take the void streets over seeing a group of Infected any day; no complaints could be made by not seeing the lethal beings.

“Michael!” Geoff shouted. The brunette immediately jumped and turned around to face the tattooed leader with wide eyes. “ _Jesus_ ; I was gonna ask if you wanted to go on a run with Ryan.” Michael fervently nodded, adjusting the backpack resting on his shoulder.

“Sure. Ready, Ryan?” he asked, glancing over at the blonde. Ryan nodded as he walked up to Michael and unlocked the door, swinging it open for the younger man to leave first. The two men left the office, Ray promptly locking the door afterward and taking over for watch. Even as they trekked down the cracked road, Geoff continued to eye Michael in an attempt to figure out what was running through the man’s mind.

After a moment of silent walking, Ryan faced Michael.

“So what was that about?”

“What? You mean the fact it took Geoff fucking forever to get my attention?” A light nod replied. “I must’ve just zoned out; nothing serious or anything,” Michael stated flatly, shrugging his shoulders and gripping his bat tightly in his hand.

“We all do it; understandable. Were you thinking about anything in particular?”

“Nah, not really.” The two once again strode in deafening silence, cautiously scanning the area as they traveled down the middle of the abandon road. “Where are we heading?” Michael asked in an attempt to break the quiet.

“Uh, there’s a gas station down here a ways, maybe a couple blocks down from here.”

“Aren’t all the gas stations pretty much empty?”

“More are than not, yeah. To be honest, I don’t know where else we can raid at the moment,” Ryan admitted. His hand absent-mindedly reached for the knife at his hip and his eyes wandered; it was always better to be on defense than to be unprepared for anything and everything.  “If the place was already cleared out, then we’ll just find another building to sweep over.”

“Fair enough… Do you have any clue where Geoff plans on leading us next?”

“Nope. I’ve seen him looking at that crappy fold-up map of his, but I don’t know exactly where we’re going.” Ryan gestured for the two survivors to turn left. Michael did as directed, startled to see an Infected stumbling about to the right of the street. His grip on his bat tightened once again, something he didn’t realize was possible beforehand.

“Ryan,” the brunette whispered, “do you think we can sneak past ‘im?” The blonde shrugged as he eyed the Infected ahead.

“Not sure, but let’s give it a shot.” They continued slowly, doing their best to make the smallest amount of noise possible and to not make any sudden or threatening movements. The Infected male glared at them and growled under its breath as it hunched in preparation to run.

“Shit. Not working, is it?” Michael hissed. Ryan deliberately shook his head.

“I’ll get it,” he whispered back, grabbing the handle of his hunting knife forcefully in his hand. As the Infected began to stride towards them, Ryan charged. He pulled out the knife, waiting for his opponent to reach him. Once within range, he jabbed the weapon into the Infected’s skull; the being instantly slumped downward. Ryan pulled the weapon out, wiped the blood off the blade and onto his shirt, and returned it to its holster.

Michael watched as the dirty blonde returned to his side.

“Hopefully the rest of the way is clear,” Ryan stated calmly, as if nothing had happened; it was something about the thirty-something year old he’d never quite understand. Michael spotted the generic gas station at the corner of the block, nudging the other man with his elbow.

“That it?” he asked as he pointed forward. Ryan nodded with a half-smile.

“Yup; let’s hope there’s still some good stuff left.” It only took another minute of walking before they entered the gas station, splitting up in order to clear the trashed place. Upon turning the corner of one of the isles, Michael nearly collided into a female Infected, the side of her face streaked with dark blood.

“Fuck!” he yelled as she lunged at him. He used his slightly dented bat to hold her back, grunting as he attempted to push the creature away.

“Michael, what’s happening over there?”

“One Infected! You… clear over there?” he grunted as his pulse sped up to an unpleasant beat.

“Yeah, hang on; I’ll help you,” Ryan loudly responded. With a forceful push, Michael shoved the Infected backwards, the bloodied being falling onto her back with a shriek. Hesitantly, he smashed the bat down onto her skull, killing her instantly and distributing dark blood around the area. His stomach churned at the sight of the flecks of the substance on his weapon. It wasn’t necessarily the blood that distressed him, no, it was the fact that this creature was once like him, a healthy human.

“Michael? Are you okay?” Ryan asked with concern as he approached the younger man. He didn’t respond, numbly standing with the bloodied bat hanging at his side. “Michael?” The brunette slightly jumped in his spot, promptly turning himself around.

“What?”

“I _said_ , are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fine,” Michael snapped defensively, eyebrows furrowed. “Looks like she had fun in here; shelves are knocked down and shit’s just scattered all over the place.” He moved away from the body and began searching the shelves which remained standing for anything of use. With reluctance, the blonde turned away and headed to the coolers to see if any water bottles remained; to his and his group’s luck, there were. He stashed eight bottles into his dirtied backpack, leaving it open for more items to be thrown inside.

“Ryan.” Michael called, a smug grin sneaking its way onto his face. Ryan faced where he could only assume Michael was, only to have a black t-shirt chucked at his unshaven face from across the convenience store. “Put that on; I’m getting fucking sick and tired of seeing that stained shirt of yours,” he stated. With a roll of his eyes, Ryan set his backpack onto the floor and quickly changed his shirt for the new, clean one he was thrown; admittedly, he was relieved to put the new shirt on and rid himself of the blood tainted one he’d been wearing for weeks.

Meanwhile, Michael walked away from the shirt rack and searched the shelves for non-perishables, stuffing as much as he could in his own backpack. He’d occasionally peek over his shoulder to make sure Ryan was still in the station, comforted to see the older man tucking batteries and flashlights into his bag; the last thing he wanted was to be alone again.

A few minutes passed by before the two men left the gas station on Ryan’s word; Michael snatched a newly updated road map of Texas on his way out, reaching back and tucking it into a pocket of his bag. They were both on edge due to the silence they met with, tense at the thought an Infected could be hidden from their view. Intense sunlight beamed onto their skin as they traveled, though neither of them could complain; the sun was always pleasant to have around.

The office building eventually came into view, Ray spotting Michael and Ryan through the front window as they approached the sole entrance. The Hispanic man unlocked the door once the two men reached it, keeping it open long enough for them to pass through.

“You guys find anything good?” Geoff asked as Ray proceeded to lock the door once more. Ryan nodded with a smirk and set his backpack down onto one of the small side tables standing next to the front window.

“Water bottles; two for each of us,” he stated, pulling out a plastic bottle and tossing it to the leader. “I also snagged some flashlights and batteries, so we all have one now.”

“I see you changed,” Geoff noted, relieved to see the untarnished black shirt instead of his previous attire.

“Yeah, only because I made him,” Michael commented in response, leaning his bloodied bat against the wall. “We were all tired of seeing fucking blood on that shirt, and you know it.” The leader nodded and opened the bottle he was given.

“Ryan, toss me a bottle,” Ray requested. A bottle was promptly thrown at him, a remark of thanks resulting. Michael chuckled under his breath as he watched the younger man gush over having fresh water once again.

“What about you, Michael; did you find anything we can use?” Geoff asked. Michael turned around and halfheartedly shrugged.

“I found some nonperishable stuff, like crackers and shit,” he answered as he patted his backpack. “Nothing better than what Ryan found, I guess. The place is practically untouched though, besides what Ryan and I took and what an Infected knocked over. When we leave tomorrow, we could probably hit it up one more time.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Geoff said as he rubbed his unshaven face.

“By the way… I was just kinda curious; where _are_ we heading off to?” The leader sighed, turning around to return to the desk he had claimed in the previous days.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted.

“What do you mean you aren’t sure? You’re the fucking leader; you should at least have _some_ sort of damned plan!”

“I’m not the greatest leader, asshole! I’m still trying to figure things out, what would be best for the good of the fucking group,” Geoff growled, pointedly staring at the curly brunette.

“Not having a plan got the last group I was with _killed_. I’m fucking sorry for not wanting history to fucking repeat itself!” Michael yelled, his face turning red and the office space instantly becoming silent. The other three men froze, shocked to finally learn a tidbit of the newest group member’s past. Michael paled at this realization, muttering a short apology before trudging over to the corner farthest from Geoff and slumping down into a ball.

Geoff continued to watch him and felt a subtle pang of guilt for his words, but he knew deep down he’d spoken the truth and was right. He faced Ryan, signaling for the blonde to come over to his desk.

“Do you have any ideas? We’re going to eventually want to get out of the city, so… what would be the best route to take?” Geoff whispered, gesturing for the other man to look at the map. The blonde’s eyes took in the map and allowed the gears in his mind crank. Options filled his thoughts, crowding one another to be picked, but one by one they were tossed aside until one decent possibility remained.

“There’s an abandon farmhouse to the east of Austin; it’s one of those things the state kept preserved because it had some historical significance. There’d be plenty of room for us and any other survivors we might come across, and it’d be far enough from the city to be safe,” Ryan explained in a hushed tone, using a finger to mark the estimated area of where the farm was located.

“Do you know how to get there from here?”

“If I had a more detailed map, I’m sure I could figure it out.”

“This is pretty outdated, and it doesn’t really have much as far as attractions and the like goes, does it?” Ryan shook his head in response.

“I think Michael took a map when we left the gas station; maybe it’ll have more stuff marked on it.” The two men turned to look at the brunette, still curled in the corner and refusing to look up at anyone. “I could go ask him if we could look at it,” Ryan offered. He was immediately denied with the shake of a head.

“I’ll ask.” Geoff stood up and walked over to Michael, crouching down and patting his shoulder.

“What?” Michael groaned, lifting his head to reveal reddened eyes and refusing eye contact.

“I’m a shitty leader and all, I’m sure you know that, but trust me when I say I’m working on it. I won’t let any of you assholes die, okay?” He was met with silence, much like he had expected. “It’s fine if you don’t want to say anything to me right now, I get it, but I was wondering if I could take a look at the map you got; Ryan and I might have a plan, and your map could very well help us solidify that plan.” Michael studied the leaders face, desperately searching for sincerity and immediately finding it. He slung his backpack off of his shoulders and pulled out the map and handed it to Geoff.

“I’m sorry for overreacting; I just care about you guys and don’t want anything to happen to us simply because we aren’t fucking prepared,” Michael explained. Geoff dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t worry about it; just work on those outbursts, okay?” He stood up and quickly made his way back to the desk. The map was soon folded open, a pleasant grin unfolding on the leader’s tired face.

“It’s an attractions map; historical sites included.” Ray looked over at the two older men, curious to know what schemes were in the making, and eventually sauntered over to satisfy his interest.

The two older men poured over the map, Ryan quickly locating the farm and jabbing his finger onto the spot.

"Found it," he said with a wide smile. Geoff grinned back, excited to finally have some sort of direction, but his beam soon faltered at the realization of distance between their target location and where they currently were.

"Ryan, that's thirty miles away." Michael, inquisitive to what was going on, tread to the desk and stood next to Ray.

"So?"

"We have to _walk_ thirty miles; that's gonna take a couple days," Geoff sighed, running fingers through his dark and unruly hair. Ryan shrugged with his ecstatic mood still intact.

"Then we'll just start today; it’s only a little after noon," he suggested as he glanced down at his watch.

"Sounds like a good idea; I mean, YOLO, right?" Ray added with a smirk of his own; a smile couldn't help but tug at the corners of Michael's mouth. The leader took a short look at the other men, eventually releasing a sigh and nodding his head.

"If you dumbasses think it's a good idea, then I'm for it," Geoff said. “Get your shit together; we’re gonna leave in ten minutes."   


	2. Supressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on releasing this chapter next week, but uh, I decided to just upload it now; at least you don't have to wait as long <3  
> Enjoy!

After walking for a few hours underneath the high, blazing sun, the four person group eventually stopped to find a place they could rest. They all sat underneath various hardwood trees of a small park, thankful for the shade.

"I just remembered how much I hate outside," Ray groaned as he wiped sweat off his brow. The two older men couldn't help but chuckle at his remark, but Michael was too absorbed in his thoughts to be bothered to reply.

_"Half the group is gone; what are we doing? Where do we go?"_

_"I don't know; we could- shit!"_

_"What the hell is going on back there?"_

_"Just keep moving, dipshit! Don't fucking look back and just_ run _!"_

Michael willed his mind to just shut up for once, to not play more painful memories. He held his bat tightly and glanced around, watching the other group members hold a conversation for a short moment before tearing his eyes away to stare at his shoes.

"Hey Mr. Rage; feel free to join the conversation," Ray teased from a few meters away.

"' _Mr. Rage_?" Michael repeated incrediously.

"Seems like you get angry pretty easy, so the name just kinda fits." An expression of utter unamusement masked the brunette's face, resulting in Ray, Ryan, and Geoff sharing a laugh. Michael rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress the smile sneaking its way across his lips.

"So, Rage, what did you do before the virus hit?" Geoff asked, turning a water bottle in his hands. Michael's smile disappeared and his eyes hardened.

"I was an electrician, nothing fancy or anything," he stated flatly, desperate to stop the conversation.

"I didn't _have_ a job," Ray added in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Were you in college?" Ryan asked. A scoff escaped the Hispanic's lips.

"Screw college," he chuckled, drawing a laugh from the group leader.

"You can say that again," Geoff agreed with a smirk. Michael could have sworn he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, causing his muscles to tense and his heart to pound.

"Infected," he said under his breath, slowly craning his neck to see past the park's trees. Sure enough, a group of the infected beings stumbled about, one of the creatures quickly making eye contact with the brunette.

The other three men looked at the newest group member in confusion and followed his eyes to finally spot the Infected quickly approaching.

"Well, fuck," Ray groaned, pulling out his firearm from his belt. Ryan's eyebrows furrowed as he pulled out his knife.

"Ray, don't fire if you don't have to; the last thing we want is to draw more attention to ourselves.” Ray simply rolled his eyes, though he knew the truth in the other man’s words.

"We could try to run," Geoff suggested, eyeing the Infected.

"They'll catch up," Michael hissed in irritation as he stood up. "Let's just fucking take care of it and get moving again." The group prepared themselves for the Infected to reach them; once they were within range, the four men attacked.

Ryan used his knife to stab the sore-covered Infected in the head, the quickest way to kill them, and Geoff did likewise. Michael slammed his bat into their skulls and refused to look at them for too long in fear of becoming sick to his stomach. Ray, despite being restricted from firing his pistol, managed to take down a good number of Infected, hammering their heads in with the butt of his gun and knocking them over, only to stomp their heads in immediately after.

He stood panting, soon realizing the group of Infected was now completely taken care of, all dead on the grass.

"Jesus, Ray; you must have killed, like, half of 'em," Geoff stated in awe. Considering there had been almost two dozen Infected to start with, to say Ray had taken out a good chunk of them could have easily been an understatement.

"I'm pretty sure... I would have gotten melee points... for that," he panted with a grin as he returned his gun to his belt. "Life's one big game."

"You plan on perfecting it?" Ryan teased.

"Of course; I'm not gonna let an apocalypse ruin my perfected games streak." The other three men couldn't resist chuckling at his remark; he truly was a gamer, through and through.

"Are we gonna get moving?" Michael asked as he leaned against his bat in exhaustion.

"Just let me rest my old bones for a bit; I'm still not used to fighting that many of them at one time,” Geoff sighed dramatically. Ryan shot him an odd look.

"'Old bones'? You're only you're only in your early thirties, right?"

"I'm thirty-nine," Geoff answered, pulling out his water bottle once again and taking a long swig.

"I can't believe you're older than me; you don't show your age."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. I thank good ol' whisky and beer for that."

"I never got alcohol; why is it so great? Ray contributed now that he'd finally regained his breath.

"It's amazing; you're probably too young to understand." Geoff looked at the Hispanic with an expression of pity.

"I'm old enough; hell, I’m 24 years old. I just don't like the taste of it. How other people can like the taste of it is beyond me," Ray shot back. "Water's the drink of champs." Ryan laughed at his response while Geoff rolled his eyes.

"Someday you'll understand the perfection that is alcohol; today's just not that day. Everyone rested up?" The three men nodded, Ray humming in response. With that, they continued on their travels.

They tread down a wide road, clearly not one of the main fares of Austin, and found the streets to be fairly empty. Occasionally, Michael or Ryan would spot an Infected feeding on something in alleyways, humans and animals alike, but they never came across anything that posed the group a serious or immediate threat. They only thing the four men met was silence; the leader had certainly gotten his fill within ten minutes of wordless quiet.

"Rising up, back on the street," Geoff started to sing, purposefully off-key. "Did my time, took my chances." He paused in the hopes someone would pick up the next couple of lines.

"Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survive," Ryan continued, singing better than Geoff had, though he made sure to add a few sour notes within his crooning.

"So many times it happens too fast. You trade your passion for glory," the older man belted out. "Don't lose your grip of the dreams of the past. You must fight to keep them alive."

Simultaneously, the others joined in. "It's the eye of the tiger. It's the thrill of the fight. Rising up to the challenge of our rival." Smiles grew on their faces as they continued to sing. "And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us with the eye of the tiger." The pseudo concert they put on for themselves ended on a purposefully sour note, and the older men chuckled under their breaths.

"Good job, assholes," Geoff smiled, patting Michael's shoulder; he was relieved to see the kid letting loose. The brunette’s lips displayed a grin, glad he could ignore the darkness around and inside himself, even if it was only for a short while.

“Too bad we weren’t as good as you, Geoff,” Michael retorted, suppressing a snort. Geoff rubbed at his dark and thick stubble with a smirk.

“I know, but, for being amateurs like yourselves, I give you all an A for effort.” The group burst into a brief bout of laughter before immersing themselves back into silence, the lightheartedness of the previous moment still lingering in the air around them and in their heads. If only those moments could last; if only they could completely replace the dark world they lived in.

Michael greatly preferred their moments of horrid singing over the large amounts of time which comprised of nothing short of absolute silence. His mind would wander, tap into memories from his past life and those of his new existence, and pose questions he wasn't sure he wanted answered.

_How long can we survive? Will we even make it to that fucking farm or whatever it is?_ More questions continued to flood his mind as minutes continued to tick by and practically screamed at him for the answers. He rubbed his left temple with his free hand, as if the simple action could erase the headache wearing him down.

Ryan glanced over his shoulder, taking in the golden orange glow of the sun beaming behind him, the signal of the end of the day. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by the light, wishing the world had more color to it; everything just seemed so gray, and where there wasn’t gray or black, the dark rusty and scarlet tones of red remained.

“Hey, Geoff; we should probably find a place to hole up in for the night,” Ryan stated, turning his head to face forward once more. Geoff hummed a response and nodded despite the other man looking anywhere but at him.

“Good idea..,” He glanced around at the sides of the road, spotting run-down trailers lining the asphalt. The only exception was a one story home, marking the end of the street. “What about that house?” the leader asked, pointing towards the lone, brown home. Multiple “sures” reached his ears, though no one sounded too thrilled.

They crossed the cracked road and approached the house, scrutinizing the peeling and chipped brown paint and the dirtied windows, one of which was broken. It remained uncertain whether the poor state of the house was due to a month of neglect or if the house had never been taken care of in the first place; both options seemed equally possible.

The group managed to get inside with no problem. They entered the living room, instantly absorbed in suffocating heat. Michael stormed over to the largest window of the room and opened it, satisfied with the outside air immediately flowing into the stuffy and cluttered room.

Ray proceeded to pull out his firearm and clear the rooms, only finding a large, dead man decaying in the bedroom. A desire to vomit made its appearance, but he forced the want down his throat, leaving the filthy room and slamming the door behind himself.

“All clear,” he called out, returning his pistol back to its usual resting place. “Just don’t go in the bedroom; there’s one dead guy, and he’s been that way for a while.” The other group members could clearly see the disgust still lingering on his features, so they took his word at face value.

Ryan began clearing away old newspapers that cluttered the floor and couch, creating a pile in one corner of the room. Geoff assisted, though he mainly cleaned off the couch so he could lie down, setting his backpack on the floor next to Ryan’s.

Meanwhile, Michael and Ray searched the kitchen for any articles of food that hadn’t passed their expiration date. Most of the cabinets were bare, they quickly discovered, though a box of Cheerios remained; they didn’t dare open the refrigerator, certain of all the rotten and vile odors that could very well exist within it.

When they finished their quick and relatively unsuccessful search, they locked the door of the kitchen and reentered the living room to find it in a cleaner state than it had previously been in, ignoring the large mound of trash in one of the four corners.

“Is it better?” Ryan asked, eyeing Geoff with arms crossed and debating whether or not to shove him off the couch and take it for himself; he _had_ done more of the work, so it’d only be fair.

“Yeah; better,” Michael agreed as he made certain the front door was locked, propping his bat up next to the frame soon after. He lay down on the hardwood floor, using his backpack as a pillow of sorts.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ray offered, glancing from man to man. Geoff had no disagreements; he was practically asleep at that point. Ryan nodded as he stood idly behind the couch, rubbing at the stubble on his cheeks and chin.

Ray stared out the large, front window, caked with dust, and watched what was still visible of the sun disappear, taking its golden glow with it as the dark of nightfall took its place. With night now taking up the sky, the room was void of light.

Ryan had finally managed to shove the leader from his desired sleeping place, the older man still sleeping in a mound on the floor. The blonde rested his eyes, lying with one of his arms beneath his head. Ray pulled a wooden chair from the kitchen and placed it in the living room and across from the window.

Unable to fall asleep, Michael sat on the floor next to Ray. The armed man released a sigh, shutting his eyes for a short moment.

“Everything’s so quiet,” Ray commented in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, but we all know Geoff’ll start snoring soon enough,” Michael smugly responded. Ray quietly chuckled and nodded his head, knowing the truth in the brunette’s words.

“He isn't too bad of a snorer; I had a friend in middle school that was the worst to spend the night with.” A pang of pain hit Michael’s chest _._

“Why’s everyone so insistent to think about life before all this bullshit?” Michael asked painfully, barely audible amongst the silence around the two men.

“Well… I dunno. It’s nice to think about; it’s better than focusing on all this, all the terrible things we’ve done and the things we’ve survived.”

“It hurts too much to remember… I don’t get how you guys can do it so fucking easily.”

“I’m not sure either. It’s a good pain to have, maybe?” Michael shook his head. Of course, Ray saw nothing.

“We should just live in the now,” he countered, “and just…push all of that out of our heads. I mean, we aren’t gonna fucking get that life back.”

“Who’d you lose?” Ray calmly asked, as if he’d ignored Michael’s previous statement.

“The fuck does it matter?”

“I wanna know why you’re always so tempered; you must’ve lost someone really important.”

“I honestly don’t want to fucking talk about it. You assholes seem like goddamn open books, but I’m not, okay? If I want you guys to know something, I’ll fucking tell you,” Michael huffed, feeling nothing short of absolutely frustrated. He could feel his eyes sting; thinking of family was too painful, and it seemed like the more he talked to his group members, the more his memories were thrown into the forefront of his mind. To say the least, he didn't want to hear any more of it.

Ray let out a sigh, one of giving up and frustration. “Fair enough. Can I at least give you some advice so you can actually go on with this? Without the mopey bullshit?” A soft snort replied.

“Go right on ahead.” His tone told how skeptical he was, and perhaps hinted at his possible, eventual unwillingness to take the advice.

“You said that the past is difficult to think about, and honestly, it was for everyone at one point or another. But you know what? We all have to learn to fucking get on with life and not let it bother us. Some genius or writer said something like… damn it, how’d it go..? I think it was like, “’Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.’” He paused, mentally confirming the quote was at least half accurate. “Be glad we got to live like that, and… I don’t know, use that as motivation to keep going and make life better.”

Though Michael couldn't see Ray through the black around him, he could tell Ray was at least looking in his direction, hoping his point got across. Michael desperately wanted to move on, but could it actually be that easy? He supposed so, but he had a hunch his stubborn nature would slow this process of moving on and accepting what had occurred in the past month.

“Uh… thanks, Ray. That’s good advice, I guess..,” he whispered, his eyelids drooping in exhaustion; he was absolutely drained from the day’s proceedings.

“No problem. You should try to get some sleep; I’ll wake you up when it’s your shift.” Michael lazily nodded his head, and with that, the two men became silent. Ray wished he had something to do in the midst of the dark while the others slept; anything to do besides staring into nothingness would have been great. He leaned his head against the back of the wooden chair, releasing a sigh as he did so. In a few minutes time, the familiar snores of their leader filled the stillness.


	3. Unmoved

Despite offering to wake the other man up to take a watch shift, Ray remained on guard all night. He’d figured the others needed sleep, so missing a night of rest wouldn’t be a big deal; he was used to pulling all-nighters to complete games anyway.

The man had passed the point of exhaustion that could ultimately drag a person into slumber, and a second wind of energy was awarded instead, as all-nighters usually granted. His fingers fiddled with his pistol lying motionlessly in his lap, running along the cold, smooth metal.

He viewed the dirtied window as light began to unveil across the sky, gradually allowing the outside world, along with the living room, to become brighter and brighter. With a subtle smile on his face, he tore his eyes from the window and glanced around the warm living room.

Ryan's arm hung off the couch, his hair disheveled. Geoff remained on the shag carpeted floor, though he'd tossed and turned throughout the night, mumbling in his sleep as he did so. Surprisingly, when Ray looked down at the floor next to him, Michael remained there, a peaceful expression on his face as he slept. His head leaned against one of the legs of the chair, and his arms rested on his lap.

_I'm surprised he isn't awake yet,_ Ray thought. Voices reached his ears, sending him into an alert state with his gun now tightly held in his hand. The shatter of glass soon followed the tangled voices continuing to discuss. With his gun aimed at the space in front of him, Ray sprung from his seat and walked into the kitchen, only to face two men entering the room.

The taller of the two, a man with dark brown hair and a strong build, trained his own weapon at Ray while the other man, a lanky blonde composed of all limbs and no muscles, stood behind.

"We're only here for supplies; we don't mean any trouble," the brunette calmly explained in a low tone; an accent of sorts affected his pronunciation. Ray's eyebrows furrowed and stared pointedly at the two strangers, and his index finger rested on the trigger.

"There isn't anything helpful here, unless you count a dead guy as something useful,” Ray coldly responded. “I suggest you go find some other place to search.”

“How do we know you aren’t lying to us?” the blonde asked, donning the same accent as his partner.

“How do you know I won’t put a bullet in your skulls if you don’t leave?” The blonde’s short burst of courage seemed to dissipate, while the brunette kept his rifle trained on Ray, stance unwavering.

“I’m pretty sure I have better aim than you.” Ray chuckled at the comment, only making him want to shoot the other man more. _What fucking nerve_.

“Wanna try me? I can ruin that face of yours with a bullet in a second,” Ray replied in a taunting manner.

“Can we just look through this room real quick?” the blonde interjected, sensing the tension rapidly building, “It’ll take all of five minutes; we’ve been without food for a couple days, and we’re pretty much out of water.” His face put on the façade of courage once more, his mouth forming a flat and firm line, but Ray could see the hesitation behind his green eyes.

“Sounds like a personal problem to me,” Ray snorted, eyeing the blonde with apathy.

“What if I put my weapon down? Just… let us scan over whatever’s in the cabinets, and then we’ll be on our way, yeah?” the brunette offered. Ray turned over this thought in his head, though maintaining his aim on the brunette in front of him.

“Michael!” Ray shouted. “Can you get your ass over here for a couple minutes?” Sounds of movement and a string of grumbled swears soon reached the three men’s ears.

“You aren’t alone?” the blonde asked with wide, green eyes.

“Never said I was, never said I wasn’t,” Ray shot back as Michael entered the kitchen, brown eyes widening as they spotted the strangers.

“Who the fuck are these guys?” Michael asked, an edge to his tone.

“I dunno. Take that one’s rifle; they don’t believe that the cabinets are empty,” Ray stated. “Tall and Dark Guy; hand over the rifle, and we’ll give you a couple minutes to look in here. You won’t find shit, but if it’ll get you guys out of here quicker, then we’ll let you search to your heart’s content. Try to pull anything, and I’ll put an end to you.”

With a short moment of hesitation, the brunette eventually lowered his rifle and handed it to Michael, who suspiciously eyed him as he did so. The two men, wary of Ray with his unyielding aim on them, began to open cabinets but were dismayed with the emptiness of them.

The gangly blonde abandoned the bare cabinets and placed a hand on the handle of the refrigerator. Almost as quickly as he opened it, he slammed the fridge door shut, gagging as he stumbled backwards.

“Jesus _Christ,_ ” he choked out. He held his stomach as he coughed. The rancid odors that had assaulted his nose undoubtedly churned his insides, ready to be expelled. The brunette turned to look at his companion.

“You okay, B?”

“Don’t..,” a gag interrupting his sentence, “…open that,” he stated sourly as he pointed at the white appliance. Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at the Brit’s misfortune.

“Weak stomach, huh? Sucks to be you,” Michael teased, resulting in the other Brit shooting him a lethal look. The curly haired man shut up, rolling his eyes and releasing a huff as he continued to hold the rifle. Ray impatiently watched the Brits scavenge the kitchen; honestly, he wished they’d just give up.

“Invited some guests?” a voice asked from the kitchen entryway. The four men turned their heads, only to face Geoff standing with arms crossed, Ryan standing closely behind.

“Hardly; they invited themselves,” Ray answered, immediately turning his head back to face the two men.

“All we’re here for is food and water, if we’re lucky enough to find any!” the blonde groaned, throwing his arms up in the air as he faced the group leader. He reminded the Geoff of a child or teenager who hadn’t gotten their way.

“Foreigners?” Ryan asked from behind Geoff, staring pointedly at the blonde.

“Suppose so. We’re from England,” the brunette man stated, finally giving up on searching and instead stood and faced the two older men in the house. “Guess you were right, Glasses; nothing here,” he directed towards Ray. “Can I get my rifle back?” Ray stared at him before releasing a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, sure. Michael, you can let him have it.” Michael reluctantly held out the weapon and offered the dark haired man a glare. Before the Brit could actually touch his weapon, Geoff interrupted him.

“How good are you?” Geoff stepped into the kitchen and soon stood only a few feet away from the man.

“What are you on about?”

“Your _aim_ , dipshit. How good is it?”

“Top shot in my squad,” he answered proudly, “I can hit moving targets, no problem.”

“Army, huh?” A nod responded, a pleased sort of smile snaking its way across his lips. It made sense he was a soldier; he maintained a firm stance, and he had the body type of one, sturdy and toned. Geoff scratched at his beard, gears clearly turning in his head. “What about you, pretty boy?” he questioned, turning to face the blonde. His body didn’t seem to be in nearly as good of a state as his friend. He was mostly likely thin to begin with, but a month of irregular meals brought him to an unhealthy slenderness.

“Well, I’m pretty good with a crossbow, don’t have one on me though,” he replied truthfully, running long fingers through his messy locks.

“Any useful skills then?” The blonde bit his lip.

“I’m good at patching people up; Dan’s taught me a good lot of stuff. Blood makes me a bit uh… a bit queasy, but I’m getting more resistance to it.” He looked to Dan for approval, a subtle nod and smile confirming.

Geoff rubbed the base of his neck and continued to eye the two men over. “You two; come in the living room. We’re gonna have a nice ol’ chat,” he said calmly. “Michael, hang onto that gun while we talk.” Both Ray and Michael knew what conversation the three men were going to have; they’d had the same talk when they both first entered the group.

Dan followed Geoff into the living room, the blonde following closely behind. The leader gestured for the two men to sit on the couch. He snagged the chair Ray had used that night and sat it in front of the strangers. His tattooed hands rested on his knees, and his bright eyes studied the men.

“I’m going to assume your name is Dan, but I don’t know what yours is, Blondie.”

“Gavin,” the blonde answered quickly. Geoff nodded, tucking away this fact in his mind.

“I’ve got some questions for you to answer, three of them, actually. You two should answer as honestly as possible; I can catch lies easily, so that shit won’t fly with me. Gavin, you’re up first; Dan, I’ll ask you three questions when he’s done.” The two Brits nodded in understanding.

“Fair enough,” they both said in sync.

“How many Infected have you killed?” Gavin’s face fell, eyes searching the air for an answer once more.

“Only a couple. I’m rubbish with firearms, so Dan obviously got control of the rifle.” Geoff nodded, seeming to regard the young man’s answer as the truth.

“How many healthy humans have you killed?”

“None,” Gavin immediately stated, “I mean, I remember before all this started and thought I could; everyone had some sort of plan of how they’d survive and somehow everyone thought they could kill another person, and I was one of those people.”

“ _Could_ you kill a healthy human if someone asked you to?”

“Depends on who’s asking and depends on why they want me to. If it’s because they’re dying and don’t want to suffer or someone’s threatening Dan and I, then maybe, sure; but, if it’s just for gain, to get materials or something, I don’t think so.”

Geoff nodded once more and then turned his attention towards Dan. “How many Infected have you killed?” The brunette straightened in his spot, giving Geoff steady eye contact and attentiveness.

“Too many to count; I honestly never kept track. I focused more on keeping ourselves alive than how many of them I killed.” Straightforward, but fact, Geoff deemed.

“How many healthy people have you killed?”

“Two.” Geoff stiffened in his spot.

“Why?”

“I was protecting Gav and myself. We’d left a group because all they did was bicker about anything and everything, and they’d even gotten in a few good physical fights as well; tried to involve me in one once. We’d packed up what belongings we had and went on our own. Two of the men from the group must have followed us; they’d attacked us in our sleep, could’ve killed Gav. I had to shoot them to keep Gav from having his throat slit and to keep myself from being hurt.”

“Why did they follow you?”

“Isn’t that four questions then?” Geoff’s lack of response told the Brit enough. He cleared his throat and took in a faintly shaky breath. “They must have wanted extra supplies. The stuff we had on us, we’d gotten ourselves, but they must’ve known what we had and wanted it for themselves.” Dan’s face darkened considerably as he explained. “Must’ve figured, ‘Eh, they aren’t part of the group anymore; can’t feel bad about stealing their things and taking their lives.’”

Geoff internally confirmed this wasn’t a fabrication of any kind, studying how tense Dan sat and how Gavin had paled a tint, rubbing instinctively at his shoulder. The leader stood up, quickly grabbed Ryan’s backpack from the floor and held it in his right hand.

“I’ve got a deal for you; the two of you can travel with us, as long as you help contribute to the group’s well-being.” The two men nodded in response, a smile growing on Gavin’s face. “ _But,_ I’ll warn you now; if you try to hurt any of us in any sort of way, Ray won’t hesitate to kill the two of you. I’m sure you got a taste of that just of few minutes ago.” Dan’s face sobered, but Gavin’s somehow remained confident.

“Sounds top,” he stated firmly. He looked over at Dan to see what he thought. Dan appeared uncertain, but as he spotted a glint of excitement and hope in Gavin’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen in a while, he couldn’t help but agree for his friend’s sake.

“Are you sure they’ll be alright with it?” Dan asked tentatively, gesturing with his head to the kitchen.

“They might not be at first, but they’ll hopefully warm up to you.” Geoff zipped open the backpack and grabbed out two water bottles, tossing one to each of the Brits; Dan easily caught his, but Gavin was caught off-guard and had unknowingly allowed the water bottle to crash into his face. He let out a noise of surprise, somewhat reminiscent of a bird squawking.

“Hey, assholes; they’re clear. Let’s eat, pack up, and get the fuck out of here,” Geoff shouted towards the kitchen. He picked up his own backpack and slung it onto his back, taking Ryan’s to the kitchen.  When the two men entered the kitchen afterwards, Michael held out Dan’s rifle.

“Here,” he simply grunted, looking at the taller man but not making eye contact. Dan gave a curt nod of thanks as he took his weapon, slinging it onto his back. Ray eyed him suspiciously, occasionally glancing over at Geoff in the hopes he could understand why the leader allowed them to join the group. Ryan tugged Michael’s backpack off the younger man’s shoulder, setting it on the wooden kitchen table and grabbing out a box of crackers.

Geoff moved next to Ray, watching as Michael, Ryan, Dan, and Gavin sat at the table and started introducing themselves to one another. The leader gestured for the two of them to go into the living room. Ray shot one last look at the strangers before following Geoff into the living room.

“You don’t trust them,” Geoff stated in a hushed tone.

“Not really, no.”

“Any particular reason for that?”

“They broke in and tried to take supplies,” Ray defended, consciously controlling his volume.

“Isn’t that how Ryan and I met you? If I recall correctly, you were rummaging through our belongings by the time we got back from a run.”

“That’s different,” Ray sheepishly whispered, shrugging and shoving his hands deep into his gray shorts’ pockets.

“No, it’s not. Both you and Dan and Gavin were simply trying to keep yourselves alive; none of you guys meant anyone else harm. So why is it then that it’s such a big fucking deal that I let them join the group? I mean, you didn’t have your undies in a fucking bundle when we let _Michael_ join.”

“He wasn’t pointing a _gun_ in my face.”

“ _You_ weren’t pointing one in _his_ either. All Dan was doing was trying to protect himself and what I can only assume is his friend.”

“How do you know that, though?”

“Fucking gut instincts!” Geoff hissed. “Trust me, okay? We’ve been as good as dicks for this long, and we’re going to stay that way. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to let a threat into our little group. What we’ve got is good; I’m not going to make a shitty decision to ruin that. I’m sure you’ll warm up to them with time, but that’s the key; _time_. You can’t judge a person based on how they were when you met them.  Just don’t hate them simply because they were trying to live and defend themselves; honestly, you’re probably overreacting.” Geoff clapped Ray on the back a couple of times before reentering the kitchen.

Maybe he _was_ just overreacting; if he were in a joking mode, he could have said he was PMSing or something stupid along those lines. He released a sigh, closing his eyes for a second. _I should just listen to Geoff; if these guys end up being trouble, I can tell him I told him so. If not… then… I guess that’s good for us._ With hesitation, he returned to the kitchen with the other men, forcing out an empty “Sorry.”


	4. Strained

Within ten minutes, the group was ready to leave. Dan and Gavin took the front of the entourage, Ray following closely behind with Michael at his side, and Ryan and Geoff taking the end. The silence among the six men was tense, and if that wasn’t enough, it was _awkward_ silence. Ray and Michael didn’t joke amongst themselves, nor did Ryan and Geoff talk about much of anything. Though they never said anything to one another, both of the Brits wondered if things were always this quiet in the group.

Geoff took out the map from his bag, folding it open enough to see their current location and their target destination. They were still about 20 miles away, much to his dismay.

“What time is it, Ryan?” Geoff asked, nudging Ryan with his elbow. The dirty blonde started, relaxing quickly once he realized it was only Geoff.

“It’s… 7:19,” he stated as he glanced at his watch. Geoff groaned but nodded all the while.

“I would’ve never woken up this early before,” he muttered regrettably under his breath. “We walked for like, what, nine hours yesterday?”

“Eh, it’s was a little closer to eight hours, but sure, close enough.”

“If we walk until the same time tonight, then we can travel a little more than ten miles,” Geoff explained with optimism.

“Then how much farther will we need to walk tomorrow?” Ray questioned, not bothering to look back as he continued to walk.

“About ten miles. If everything going for us works the way it should, then we’ll be able to sleep there tomorrow night,” Geoff answered with a grin.

“Where _are_ we headed anyway?” Gavin asked, craning his head to look over his shoulder.

“The Colleton Plantation,” Ryan stated, not adding anything else to his answer.

Silence filled in the air once more, much like clouds began to clutter the sky until no patches of blue remained visible. An hour passed before Dan glanced over at his friend, unsurprised to find his nose crinkled in discomfort.

“Stomach hurt, B?” Gavin nodded, releasing a cough. Michael and Ray shared a look of uncertainty before Ray tapped on Dan’s shoulder.

“Is he sick? If he is, you know what we’re-“

“Nah, he’s just weird. It’s gonna rain,” Dan nonchalantly explained, pointing up at the monotonous sky.

“What the hell do you mean it’s gonna rain?” Michael asked incredulously. “What does that have to do with him being fucking _sick_?”

“I’m not sick!” Gavin impatiently stated as he stopped to turn around and face the curly brunette, a scowl clearly worn on his features. “I don’t know why, but, when the pressure changes, I get nauseous for a bit. Every time the pressure changes, at least to the point I can feel it, it rains.”  He suppressed another cough.

“It kind of comes in handy,” Dan confirmed with a hesitant grin on his lips. The four original group members weren’t sure what to think, but they all decided to err on the side of caution and keep an eye on Gavin. As far as they knew, he hadn’t lied up to that point, but still; you could never be too vigilant.

“Why do you get that, Gavin?” Geoff asked from the back of the group.

“I dunno! It just happens I guess. Kind of always has,” the Brit shrugged. He reached back to his backpack, tugging his water bottle out of one of the pockets and took a large swig. Maybe that’d sate his stomach.

Without much warning Dan pulled out his rifle, pointing it at the trees lining the side of the road opposite to the group. He’d spotted an Infected, who had in turn been looking at him.

“There’s an Infected,” he informed. “Should I shoot at him?”

“If it’s not coming towards us, then it’s not a problem; don’t waste bullets if you don’t have to,” Geoff responded sternly in turn. Gavin shoved the bottle back into his backpack as the rest of the group stopped for a moment, studying the being. The Infected, a chubby man with sores riddling his ashen face, stumbled forward a bit, releasing a low growl. He rushed ahead, followed by a large horde of Infected, all screeching or growling or snarling.

“Shit!” Ray yelled as he pulled out his own pistol. “Fire, idiot!” He began firing, and immediately after the first bullet, Dan followed suit. The dark haired soldier made calculated shots, though not spending too much time on each Infected; he wouldn’t allow them to get closer if he could help it. Ray fired in a similar manner, downing almost as many Infected as Dan.  The other four men stood tensely, uncertain of what they should do without firearms of their own.

Despite all of the bullets discharged, and the two times Ray had to reload, more Infected continued to run towards the group; there must have been a suburban neighborhood nearby.

“How about we just get out of here?” Gavin shouted above the gunfire. “We’re gonna run out of ammo at this rate!” Ray took a short pause to look at the sandy blonde before releasing a groan.

“Geoff, we’re gonna have to run!” Ray shouted.

“Then let’s book it the fuck out of here!” he frantically replied. “Dan, you stay at the back with me; Ray, you lead in case any more of these fucks pop up over there!” he commanded as the entire group began to ran. Ray quickly shot back a lethal look, resulting in the leader rolling his eyes. “He’ll be fine back here!”

The group dashed onward as one unit, the Infected tailing them closely. Dan would occasionally twist his torso to fire at them, taking pairs of the beings down at a time. Ray would repeatedly whip his head around to see how bad their situation was, wishing he could be at the back as well; he’d be more useful there than at the front, where there were no Infected as far as he could see.

Besides the bloodied and crazed beings’ snarls and screams, the only things to be heard were the six men’s pants and their feet slamming against the cracked asphalt. Geoff’s side began to ache, Gavin’s left shoulder sent a dull throb throughout his torso, and Michael could begin to feel his chest tighten in exhaustion. Upon Dan turning around a fourth time to fire, a horrid click met his ears.

“Bloody hell; I’m out!” he growled in utter frustration. He bolted ahead to Gavin, reaching out for his bag. The sandy blonde stumbled slightly, startled by his friend. “Keep running; I need to grab more ammo,” he explained as he zipped open Gavin’s backpack. He struggled to grab another clip out of the pack, but he managed with a little time and forced patience.

The brunette nearly stopped in his tracks, allowing the group to get some distance from him. He stood strong and quickly reloaded his weapon, subsequently firing at the Infected. One by one, they fell; craters were created in their heads. Eventually, he turned around towards the group and sprinted to catch up to them.

“What… should we do if… if we can’t… outrun them?” Ryan asked between strained breaths, looking at Geoff for the answer. The leader ignored him for a while, as if his mind was solely locked on getting out of the situation alive.

“I’m not sure yet…  just… give me time,” he panted out. Michael’s eyes widened at the leader’s words. They didn’t have a plan. _Just…just like last time._

“Guys! See… that building way… down there? Two stories,” he yelled, pointing at what he could make out to be the top of a building. Everyone let out a ‘yes’ or ‘yeah’, signaling they’d heard. “We’re gonna fucking… get in there! If we can…open those second-floor…windows, then we can… wipe these fuckers out!”  It wasn’t the most solid of plans, but it was something, and having _something_ to go off of was better than improvising.

The six men willed their screaming muscles to take them the distance to the building. Light droplets of rain began to land on their skin, cooling them down considerably and dampening the pavement. They eventually reached where the building was, hidden by a line of trees. Weaving through them, Gavin and Ray stumbling slightly as they bolted from the violent beings behind them, they eventually came into a nearly empty parking lot in front of the modern building.

Sparing no time, they flung open the main entrance and slammed the door shut, entering the lobby of the building. Ryan, Geoff, and Gavin rushed to grab whatever they could to block the entrance; side tables and chairs were the main items they used. The Infected, much to their relief, ran past the building, thinking the group had continued to run.

They all panted in complete exhaustion, Ray, Michael and Dan collapsed onto the ground; they’d just survived one of the largest hordes they’d ever seen. Geoff slunk down into one of the lobby chairs, leaning his head against the back rest, and Ryan followed suit, though he didn’t allow himself to get as comfortable.

“We’re fucking alive!” Geoff breathlessly exclaimed, relief washing over his face. Gavin, along with the other men, grinned in response. To say they were relieved was an absolute understatement. The standing Brit sat down next to his friend and reached behind himself and into his backpack, quickly grabbing out Dan’s water bottle. He held it out, Dan still breathing heavily as he grabbed the bottle, grinning and giving a nod of gratitude.

“Cheers, B.” Still working on regaining his breath, Gavin gave one, proud nod in return.

“Michael,” Geoff called out from his chair. Michael lifted his head to look at the leader.

“Yeah?”

“That was some… some quick thinking back there… Good job, kid,” he praised. A sensation of mild honor washed over him, but his mind reminded him that it was simply the desperation in his heart that kept him from idly letting Geoff make all the decisions; history was not going to repeat itself as long as he could help it. He was just glad he _could_ this time.

“No problem,” he replied, “anytime.” And he truly did mean it.

As their breathing calmed and quieted, the hum of rain filled their ears. Gavin chuckled, uttering an overly confident “I told you so!”  Ryan sat up and looked out one of the large windows; still no Infected, and plenty of rain poured down.

“Looks like it’s going to get heavier; sky’s getting dark,” Ryan commented as he glanced out. Geoff nodded, releasing a groan as he slowly straightened himself out.

“Yeah, we should run a sweep through here; we’ll probably stay here till it clears up. From the looks of it, it might be a while,” Geoff added. Dan propped himself up, taking another long drink from his bottle.

“Who’s gonna check which floor?” he asked as he screwed the cap back on his bottle.

“Michael and I can check the top floor,” Ray offered, gradually standing up, and then taking his backpack off to search it for more ammo.

“Then Dan, Ryan, and I can search down here,” Geoff stated firmly.

“Wait! What about me then?” Gavin interjected, “I don’t want to be left out; I need to do something too.” He folded his arms over his chest, a subtle pout on his lips.

“You can come with us, I guess,” Michael suggested. He half expected Ray to protest, but, surprisingly enough, he looked over at his friend to find he bowed his head in agreement instead, no anger or discontent in his brown eyes.

“We’ll be Team Lads!” Gavin grinned, earning a laugh from Michael and a quiet chuckle from Ray. They all took out what weapons they had, Michael with his bat, Ray with his newly reloaded pistol, and Gavin with a hunting knife, and wandered about, passing through one of the three doorways of the lobby. Geoff smiled at the young men.

“Remember what I told you about them, or more specifically, Ray warming up to you two?” he asked, directing the question towards Dan. The Brit nodded, now standing tall. “I knew it’d eventually happen, because Ray only puts on a show of seriousness around people he isn’t comfortable with, but I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take. If I had to guess, you’ll all be the best of friends in a couple days’ time.”

“Well, yeah; that’s a no-brainer. With Michael, it only took a day and some hours for them to become all friendly with one another,” Ryan added, pulling out a knife as he stood from his seat. “Granted, no guns were involved then, but still; they were complete strangers to one another for all of a day plus, like you said.”

The three men passed through the far right door, swinging freely on its hinges. Dan glanced at the wall of the hall they tread, reading the signs posted.

“Medical clinic,” he mused, earning a hum from Ryan.

“I’m surprised there were only two cars in the parking lot; you would’ve thought there’d be more, right?” Geoff commented with a tone of curiosity.

“Well, that first day was a Sunday. Maybe they were closed, yeah?” Dan replied, opening one of the multiple doors. Ryan pulled out one of the multiple flashlights from his backpack, pouring light into the examination room with the click of a button. He stepped into the room while the other two men stood outside the door. Carefully, he scanned over the area with the beam of golden light. Everything seemed in order, files and papers carefully tucked away, counters clean of any sort of debris. He clicked the flashlight off, leaving the room and shutting the door.

“Could be; none of us looked at the operating hours, so it’s possible. I think it’s more that this place isn’t a hospital or a pharmacy, where meds and other supplies are provided, than it is about whether the place was open or not when shit hit the fan,” Ryan explained, continuing to walk down the hall until he reached the next door.

“Fair point,” Geoff muttered, following closely behind. As Ryan opened the second door, Dan made a comment.

“But, there’re two cars outside. It’s highly unlikely the car’s inhabitants just went frolicking about outside, so there’s a good chance they’re in here.” Ryan shot back a look to Dan, no hostility intended in the gesture.

“Then we’ll be careful,” Ryan sighed, not that they never weren't vigilant; it was impossible to survive in such a manner.

 

+

 

“I wish I would’ve asked Ryan for a fucking flashlight before we dragged our asses up here,” Michael grumbled as he stood outside one of the three rooms of the second floor, Ray standing next to him and Gavin across from him.

“Why?” Gavin asked dumbly. Michael slammed his left palm into his forehead, letting out a groan.

“Because the damn room might not have any fucking windows. Are you _really_ that dumb?”

“It was an honest question!” Ray put his ear to the wooden door and picked up on a stirring noise inside.

“There’s probably an Infected in there,” he stated to Michael in a hushed tone. “I’ve got an idea on how to get rid of it without having to go in there with no sort of light.

“Go on then; spill it.”

“You stand like,” Ray pointed to the floor directly in front of the door, though it was about ten feet away from it, “right there. I’ll open the door, you make some racket, and then you can smash it in or something. Good?”

“Yeah,” the curly haired man huffed as he stood in his directed position. Ray placed a hand on the door knob and gestured with his head for Gavin to move out of the way, the Brit immediately doing so without a sound.

Ray forcefully pushed the door inward, immediately standing to the side of the door frame with his back pressed against the plain, light gray wall.

Come here, Ugly!” Michael shouted. “Come and get it! One, fresh human Happy Meal with extra ink; free of charge!” he joked, spotting something move in the dark of the room. Narrowing his eyes, he prepped his bat to swing. “Better yet, you could have something more exotic; a complete dipshit from England!”  As he expected, an Infected bolted out of the dark room and straight towards him. He swung powerfully at the sore-covered being, landing a heavy blow on its neck. Once more, he pulled back and slammed the bat into its head.

Ray grinned at Michael, glad his simple plan had succeeded; Michael couldn’t complain about the plan working either.

“So; I’m exotic, huh?” Gavin questioned with a suggestive tug of his eyebrow, earning him a laugh from both Michael and Ray.

“What can I say? There’s something about Brits that’s so _striking_ ,” Michael teased along. They walked down the short and open hallway of the upper floor, all sharing a smile before they began their sweep through the last two rooms.


	5. Expounded

A clutter of footsteps drifted down the stairs and through the short halls, all the way to the lobby of the building. Geoff turned around in his seat at one of the tables as the three lads walked into the open space, one with a considerably wetter head and set of shoulders than the other two.

“Gavin, why are you wet?” he asked, failing to keep in a chuckle. A stupid grin was spread across the Brit’s face while Michael rolled his eyes, though a smile betrayed this act of fake annoyance.

“We were clearing one of the rooms upstairs, and the place, some sort of physical therapy room, happened to have a couple of windows that could be opened,” the curly brunette started.

“Genius Boy Wonder thought it’d be a great idea to shove his head out of it,” Ray finished, folding his arms over his chest as he smirked. Geoff laughed as the Brit ruffled his soaked hair, utterly and completely disheveling his sandy hair.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that it felt great!” Gavin defended. A crack of thunder shook within the building and drew the four men’s attention to the windows. Dark clouds blocked any sort of sunlight from peaking down at the ground; if someone had neglected to look outside, the lack of light could have been confused for dusk. Lightning flashed over the trees and across the horizon, offering momentary light.

“I take it we’re staying for the night?” Ray asked.

“Yeah,” Geoff sighed, “Ryan’s grabbing the cots we found in the storage room.”

“Wait, why the fuck does a clinic have cots?” Michael questioned.

“The hell if I know. In case of disasters?” The leader gave a shrug of his shoulders, turning back to the contents of his bag, all laid out on one of the tables.

“Then where’s Dan?” Gavin asked with pure curiosity, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Oh, he’s grabbing a water tank. Like, the ones you fill up those shitty, little paper cups up with in lots of businesses? Anyway, it’ll give us a chance to top off our bottles and shit.” As if on cue, the brunette entered the room, carrying a water tap cautiously in order to keep the water tank on its mount from tipping over and spilling. On top of the transparent blue tank balanced a nearly empty bottle.

“’Ey, B,” he called out, grinning at his friend shortly before setting down the water. He quickly snatched the bottle from its perch and tossed it to Gavin. The blonde caught the nearly empty bottle with a sort of ease he didn't have the last time he was thrown something. “Can you fill it up for me while I help Ryan?” Gavin approved his request, showing his friend a firm thumbs up. He ran off in the direction he came, soon disappearing from sight. Gavin lazily made his way to the water tap and ignored the conversation going on around him.

“What are you doing, Geoff?” Michael asked the leader, sitting down in the chair next to him and leaning his bat against the adjacent wall.

"I’m just making sure there isn't any useless shit in here, making room, repacking. I’m bored out of my mind, and I didn't want to carry shit, so.” He ended with his statement with another halfhearted shrug, receiving a scoff in response.

“Great to hear, Geoffrey,” Ryan muttered as he walked into the lobby, setting down two cots onto the floor. “Dan’s carrying two in, but there’s only one left; someone doesn't get a cot and can sleep on the floor.” He set up the two cots as he spoke, occasionally glancing up at his group mates. “I’d like to nominate Geoff for the floor.”

“ _That_ doesn't sound right. I recommend _you_ for the floor, Ryan,” the leader jeered, throwing a basic first aid kit into the bottom of his pack.

“Boys, calm yourselves; we don’t need to put you in the time out corner, right?” Michael joked in a low, commanding tone, crossing his arms and suppressing a laugh. Both of the older men stared at him, donning fake pouts.

“No,” they answered in sync. Ryan left the room without a word once more to grab the last cot.

“Assuming that we’ll have someone on watch duty, whenever we switch, we can swap positions; watch duty for a cot. That way no one will be sleeping on the floor,” Ray offered, sitting down on one of the cots after Ryan disappeared from view. Geoff hummed a response, tossing other items into his bag. He zipped the bag shut and left his water bottle out on the table.

“Sounds fair.” Dan walked into the room once more with a cot tucked under each arm. Gavin assisted his friend, taking one of the cots from his arms and setting it up himself, promptly sitting himself down on the makeshift bed. As Dan finished setting out his own cot, Gavin handed him a full water bottle.

“Here you go,” he affirmed, a crooked grin on his lips and showing his teeth. Dan thanked him, gave a nod, and took a drink from the bottle once more. Gavin slung his heavy backpack off of his shoulders and slumped it onto the cot, releasing a hiss under his breath as he did so. Dan cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“Your shoulder bugging you?” Dan probed. The blonde nodded his head, rubbing at the back of his neck with his right hand. “I've still got painkillers.”

“I know, but I've never taken a pill; it’s just weird,” Gavin admitted. “Besides, I’d rather not take one. I mean, it’s not like it’s _agonizingly_ painful or anything.” Dan frowned and released a sigh before reaching over searching Gavin’s bag. He pulled out a white plastic box and set it down between Gavin and his bag.

“Let me look at it,” he stated flatly, looking at his friend with concern in his eyes.

“Not in front of them.”

“You've got to be joking. They won’t mind.”

“But I barely know them,” Gavin whined, unaware that the other four men in the room were now paying their attention to him and Dan.

“Are you guys gonna do it? We get it; I mean, pent up testosterone and hormones,” Ray teased, though he was unaware of why the two Brits were arguing.

“No,” Dan groaned in subtle annoyance, “Back when we were attacked, Gavin got stabbed. Since then, his shoulder’s been bugging him, and that’s understandable, but I haven’t looked at the wound for a couple of days; I want to make sure it isn't infected or anything.” The other men’s eyes widened to varying degrees of surprise and shock.

Gavin reluctantly removed his shirt, revealing a long line of stitches along where his shoulder met his chest. He huffed in annoyance as he attempted to cover his hairy chest with his right arm, shooting a glare at Dan.

“You’re a knob, Dan,” he grumbled. Dan rolled his eyes before examining the other man’s wound. The skin around the stitches was raised ; scar tissue began to form in a railroad track pattern, signaling major healing had begun, and the fiery red ring around the stitches indicated a subtle infection had set in around the laceration.

“We should probably cut these off,” Dan muttered, ignoring the blonde’s previous comment.

“How long ago was the attack?” Geoff questioned from his chair.

“About ten days or so ago?” Dan answered, though uncertain in doing so.

“Eleven days,” Gavin confirmed, nodding as he watched Dan draw a pair of scissors from the box.

“Are you sure you don’t want any painkillers?” The brunette began to deftly snip at the stitches. Gavin clenched his jaw and shook his head, careful to stay still as his friend cut away the stitches.

“I don’t want them. I’m… quite alright on my own.”  Dan carefully began pulling out the nylon threads, earning plenty of silent words of grievance from the blonde.

“I've been meaning to ask; what brings you two to America?” Ryan asked, striding to the windows to grab a chair.

“We do slow-mo stuff,” Gavin simply answered shortly before gritting his teeth again. “Bloody hell, Dan.” Ryan placed the chair facing Dan and Gavin and then sat down to listen to the Brits’ explanation.

“We were shooting a commercial for Big Red, so it brought us here,” Dan continued as he gently pulled threads. Delicate beads of blood bubbled from the holes the threads left. Once he was done, he reached inside the plastic box once more, pulling out a small packet and a piece of cloth. Resting the cloth on his knee, he quickly tore open the packet and dampened the cloth. Another “bloody hell,” was groaned as he started to rub the antiseptic on the healing wound, to which he ignored yet again.

“We were supposed to… fly back to England but uh, the outbreak kind of put an end to those pl- damn it, Daniel!” he squeaked.

“Sorry! Look, I’m keeping this thing from getting any worse, yeah? So quit your whining,” Dan shot back defensively as he finished cleaning the wound.

“I can’t imagine it took the both of you too long to shoot a _soda_ commercial,” Michael commented incredulously, looking over the two foreigners.

“Well, we got here at night, so that day wasn't used for shooting. We actually shot footage for the advertisement the next day, which didn't take entirely long; it took a couple hours since you have to get just the right angle on stuff and make sure the exposure is correct, otherwise the footage is utter trash. The day after that was when everyone started dying or turning; we simply focused on staying alive, of course,” Gavin explained, finally able to snatch his gray t-shirt and throw it back on, though he did so in a manner as to not upset his healing wound.

“Were you going to leave the country that day? If so, that’s the suckiest timing ever,” Geoff contributed, met with a shake of Dan’s head.

“We were going to fly back to England that Monday, which was the day after? I suppose that's still fucking bad luck. Anyway, we were going to just film a couple of videos for our YouTube channel.”

“You have a YouTube channel?”

“We’re the Slow Mo Guys,” the Brits answered together, sharing sheepish grins. Their smiles faltered at the faces of nonrecognition surrounding them.

“Haven’t heard of you guys, sorry,” Ray nonchalantly shrugged from his cot. Mumbled agreements reached the Brits' ears, to which they did their best to shake off. Awkward silence filled the lobby as Dan put away the medical kit and lay down on his cot. Thunder rippled through the air and flashes of lightning momentarily filled the space, rain pouring down all the while.

Despite the somewhat discomfited atmosphere, it was a relatively tranquil moment for the six man group; no Infected attempted to slaughter them, they had a roof over their heads, and they had plenty of food and water to go around, even if it was only for a short while.

Ray took the silence as an opportunity to swiftly make a mental inventory check, following in the steps of Michael and Ryan as they opened their backpacks. Within his worn bag, he checked food (two cans of corn and a small box of Fruit Loops), a can opener, a book of matches, a bottle of water, a multi-use utility knife, and extra clothing (a gently worn hoodie and a black beanie) off his list. He zipped open the side pouches of his bag, only finding two more clips for his weapon, and released a hushed groan of disappointment. Bullets from this point on could only be used in absolute emergencies.

“How’re shifts gonna work tonight?” Michael asked the tattooed leader as Ray closed up his pack.

“Uhhh, well, _Ray_ isn't doing it at all tonight,” he started, pointing a finger at the young man, “but uh, whoever’s first will stay up for a couple of hours, or for however long they can keep their eyes open, and then they’ll wake someone up and trade. It’ll be just like it has been since shit started.”

“Wait, why am I excluded from watch?” Ray questioned, brown eyes narrowing at Geoff.

“Because you were on lookout all fucking night, dipshit.” The tone of his voice added the statement, “I don’t understand why you even needed to ask.” Feebly shaking his head, the Puerto Rican huffed under his breath.

“Then we’ll leave first thing in the morning, right?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah; if we can help it, we should actually leave _earlier_ than this morning since we lost an entire day of travel. That reminds me, what time is it?”

“10:47,” Dan and Ryan answered in unison as they peered down at their watches. Gavin released a groan and tilted his head against his back.

“That’s it? How the hell are we going to pass time?” he questioned in annoyance, nearly interrupted by another crack of thunder. “Are we just gonna _faff about_ until the night comes?”

“I've got cards,” Geoff offered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not the greatest idea ever, but unless if anyone’s got any better ideas, we’re pretty much stuck with this.” Mumbled agreements registered within his ears. He looked over to the blonde Brit, only to find an uncertain expression on his features.

“That’s good ‘n all, but I don’t know how to play many games with cards.” Both Geoff and Michael stared at the blonde with utter disbelief.

“Getaway?”

“Spades?”

“Blackjack?” All of the suggestions were met with the shake of his head.

“I bet he doesn't even know how to play Go Fish,” Ray teased coldly. Gavin released a nervous chuckle. He once again ran a gangly hand through his drying hair.

“I _do_ know how to play that one.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Michael deadpanned. Geoff couldn't help but incline to agree. Regardless, he reached within his bag to grab a deck of cards.

+

 

Gavin stared up at what he could only assume was the ceiling amongst the dark of the lobby. The day had passed so slowly, though the few rounds of Go Fish the group played assisted in bypassing some time. He’d unsurprisingly had “his ass handed to him” while everyone else did leaps and bounds better than him. Honestly, he didn't care about losing the game though, after all, that’s all it was. A game.

He couldn't help but think of how fake it felt. Everyone had laughed and smiled during the game, cracking jokes throughout the rounds’ entirety. Despite it all, he couldn't get his mind off of one plain fact. A damned apocalypse was happening around them. It was uncanny to participate in something so simple, so lighthearted and carefree after doing nothing more than solely trying to stay alive for so long. Hell, the last two weeks had easily been the worst of his life.

Relations within his previous group were clearly bad; he’d not only spectated plenty of arguments but had also gotten caught up in the middle of them. It didn't help to have such a stubborn attitude when put under any sort of pressure. Leaving the group with Dan didn't help them much, especially the first night, the night of the ambush.

He remembered waking to the sound of the doorknob turning; he’d double checked earlier to confirm the bloody thing had been locked. Yet, there stood two men silhouetted with the moonlight to their backs. How they managed to get in still stumped the Brit. The last thing he fully recalled from that night was sitting up and staring at the two men. After that, it was simply the remaining pieces to a destroyed puzzle. A white hot sensation pressing at his shoulder. A knife slicked with his blood. A familiar shout. A blade at his neck, and the angriest he’d ever seen Dan’s face become preceded the blast of bullets reverberating violently within his ears.

The next thing he could remember was waking up the next afternoon. A few days later, they’d run out of food. It seemed like no matter how hard the two of them tried, they couldn't succeed in locating anything to eat, or anything of use for that matter. Though he hated to admit it, he was nearly certain they weren't going to survive. If he let his mind wander for long enough, he came to conclusions of, “It’s not worth it,” and questions of, “What’s the point anymore?”

Merging with Geoff’s group, however, lit a spark of hope within him. He could understand Dan’s reluctance to join, but from what he could tell, from what he saw that day, the group was tight-knit; at least, they certainly got along better than his previous group.  He could only hope he made the correct choice.

He attempted to take a glimpse out of the large front windows, though failing to spot anything of interest. The clouds hadn't yet cleared from the sky, blocking out any and all moonlight, but in any case had stopped pouring a couple of hours ago. Giving up on noticing anything, he turned his back towards the interior of the lobby. Soft snoring reached his ears, along with steady breathing. It was more comforting to hear than utter silence.

As he turned his knife in his hands, careful to keep his fingers from nicking the blade, he arrived at a simple conclusion. He was ready to keep living on; he just wasn't sure if he’d have to adjust his definition of what living was.


	6. Unanticipated

Geoff released a long yawn, attempting to silence it with the back of his ink covered hand. He scratched at his shoulder as he stared at the sleeping men around him. Ray remained on the floor, in the same place and position he was in when he first fell asleep during Go Fish; it was amazing he was able to comfortably sleep on his stomach for so long, granted the lad _had_ been sleep deprived. The other men lay on their cots, peaceful expressions on their features.

Judging from the sun peaking over the horizon and blanketing the buildings and trees in an orange glow, he determined it was morning. He was reluctant to wake the guys up, but if doing so meant they could potentially get to their destination quicker, then it was something that had to be done. He went around the lobby, gently shaking the shoulders of the lads. Gavin gracelessly fell off his cot and slammed himself awake on the linoleum. Ray and Michael awoke with more poise, though Michael gave Geoff a short glare.

He woke Ryan last, lightly rubbing his fingers along the side of the blonde’s face. Both Gavin and Dan shot each other an odd expression, confused by the leader’s actions, though Ray and Michael in their groggy state immediately recognized what the man was doing and why. The Brits finally understood once Ryan swatted a hand at his own face, hitting and startling himself awake. Geoff emitted a hearty laugh and nearly bent over at Ryan’s expression.

“Haha, _very_ funny. Like you haven’t done _that_ before,” Ryan deadpanned, sitting up and rubbing at his stubbled face. Much to his disapproval, this was the manner Geoff always woke him with.

“Come on, Ryan; you’re so easy,” Geoff laughed as he abandoned the man’s side. He stood next to his cot, zipped open his backpack, and tossed granola bars to the five men. “Here’s breakfast, dickheads; eat up and make sure your water bottles are topped off before we leave.” The men devoured their morning rations, and they filled their bottles to capacity as they’d been directed .The leader wished there was a way to carry the water tank with them, it was at least five gallons of clean water, but there was no way to efficiently do so; it’d be an inconvenience and a disadvantage if they encountered Infected. If they had a vehicle on the other hand… then there wouldn’t be a question of whether or not to bring it.

The men spent a few minutes finishing their pseudo-meal and gathering what few possessions they owned; they soon tore down the makeshift barrier of tables and chairs. Once the entrance was clear, they exited the building without a second thought. The soft sunlight of morning was comforting, and all six of the survivors greatly preferred it over the stormy skies from the previous day. No one spoke for quite some time, all turning over their own thoughts in their heads as they walked.

 _If we come across another horde that big, I’m gonna kill myself,_ Ray morbidly thought, though he was fairly certain he wasn’t serious about the proposed action. His eyes scanned the line of trees along the road, much like the other men did; after yesterday’s close call, it was hard not to.

The atmosphere around them wasn’t awkward, even with the absence of conversation. For whatever reason, the silence felt right and expected. They all had questions they wanted to bring up, but on that same token, they didn’t want to speak them aloud. The last thing any of them wanted was any of their morbid and dark questions answered against their favor. It was better to leave some things unasked.

+

“Alright… would you rather… have the _face_ of a donkey, or the _ass_ of a donkey?” Geoff asked. He didn’t pose the question to anyone in particular, though he had a large hunch he knew who’d answer him.

“Wait, if I had a donkey’s ass, would that mean I’d have the tail too?” Gavin replied, thoroughly enjoying these absurd questions. For the past twenty minutes or so, it seemed as if the other four men were simply listening to Geoff and Gavin go back and forth and opted to not join the bizarre conversation. Of course, the banter between the two was nothing short of entertaining.

“Yup; you get the whole shebang.” The older man grinned as he watched the expression of pure thought wipe across the Brit’s face.

“I think I’d go with that, otherwise I’d have trouble getting a laid with an ugly mug like that. I mean, at least with my ass I can kinda hide it.” Michael and Ray chuckled quietly at the Brit’s rationalization.

“You realize it’d be the _size_ of a donkey’s ass too, right?”

“What?!”

“Yeah! You’d literally have a donkey’s butt.” Gavin rubbed at his face, silently laughing as he did so. The image that came to mind was… _interesting_ , to say the least.

“I still think I’d go with that,” he muttered, earning a laugh from Geoff.

“Me too, dude.” There was a short moment of silence among the group before Michael cleared his throat.

“Hey, Geoff? Can we stop for a bit? Just like, take a break for a couple minutes; we’ve been walking for a couple hours straight now.”

“Sure thing; you boys have earned it. Let’s just go in the shade; the sun’s getting pretty intense,” Geoff commented, leading the group to the shoulder of the road. They all either sat or lay in the cool grass. The leader took this opportunity to take out his map and figure out how far the group had traveled so far.

The building they spent the night in was marked by a small pen dot he created on the map, and after glancing about for a street sign, he was able to figure out how far they’d traveled. They made it four miles so far today. Of course, with no traffic and no immediate threats so far, it was easy to get that far.

“We’ve got about thirteen miles until we get to the plantation,” Geoff announced as he folded up his map. “If we keep walking at this rate, we’ll only have to walk a couple of miles tomorrow before we get there.”

“That’s if we don’t get ambushed again,” Ryan added after swallowing a mouthful of water. The leader shot him a look, keeping him from saying much of anything else on the matter. The blonde’s pale eyes scanned the trees, and he almost broke out laughing. What fucking perfect timing.

Without a word, he got up from his spot and began to walk away from the group. After a moment of watching the man, the rest of the group realized there’d been an Infected watching them. Ryan pulled his knife out of his belt with a grin and made quick work of the Infected; within a minute of Ryan getting up, the diseased being had been stabbed in the throat and the head, only to drop to the ground and bleed out. It didn’t even so much as yell before its life was ended.

As Ryan walked back, he waged a finger at Geoff, still with the knife in hand.

“Kind of like that,” Ryan smirked, “That could have gotten bad if it’d started making a bunch of noise.” Geoff subtly shook his head and rubbed at his forehead. It’s not that he thought nothing would happen; he’d just rather not think about it happening.

“How’d you kill it so easily?” Gavin asked from his shaded spot on the ground. Ryan shrugged as he wiped the blade on his jeans.

“Well, their skulls are softer than ours; the Virus must weaken the bones or something.”

“No, I mean, you did it without any sort of difficulty. You didn’t even hesitate, and you’re smiling. How?” Ryan chuckled down at the Brit. He sat down next to the young man, giving him firm eye contact. The other men stared at him in anticipation of his response.

“It’s either the Infected or us. Personally, I’d like to live and have you guys around for a while, so I have no qualms killing them. Besides, it’s relieving to know you prevented your own death; is that not something to smile about?” _I can see how you’d be relieved, but I still wouldn’t smile so… creepily_ , Gavin thought silently, muttering an “I s’ppose,” as his answer.

The men continued to wordlessly rest for a few more minutes. The shade and gentle breezes were a godsend, and they certainly couldn’t complain about letting their legs relax for a short while. Eventually, Geoff spoke up and alerted the group they should keep moving. They all groaned and muttered to themselves, but they all stood and continued their trek. 

At least they weren’t mindlessly wandering from place to place, an action a couple of the men were all too familiar with. They had a target destination now, something valuable they were able to latch onto and strive for. It was better to have any sort of goal; otherwise, what’d be the point of it all?

Within minutes of returning to the road, they found the sun’s glare too hot for comfort now that it had begun its climb to its peak in the clear sky. This was to be expected of Texas weather, of course, but it wasn’t any more welcome than it would have been before the pandemic had spread. Residual moisture in the air had luckily been swept away with the previous day’s storm; because of this, the survivors had something to be thankful for.

Silence engulfed them once more, and much like it had been true at the beginning of the morning, it was comforting to an extent. It gave them a chance to at least attempt to clear and sort out their minds. Some were more successful than others. The older men of the group found it easier to answer their questions; the younger men struggled more, and in the case of Michael and Gavin, failed to come to any positive or certain conclusions. Fuck the apocalypse for causing their heads to throb and ache and question itself more than everyday stress ever could.

The orchestra of cicadas reached their ears, though no one paid it much attention. As they continued to walk, they soon realized the hum started to gradually louder, and the hum wasn’t just coming from the bugs anymore. It was something much more mechanical; a truck, from the sounds of it.

The group spun on their heels, glaring down the road behind them. Sure enough, a dark red truck could be spotted at the horizon, steadily closing the distance between it and the group of survivors. Preparing for the worst, hostile survivors, five of the men reached for the weapons and had them at ready. Geoff however, gave a subtle shake of his head, squinting at the approaching vehicle.

“Wait just a sec. Don’t pull anything.” The vehicle slowed down as it drew nearer, its occupants most likely didn’t want to ram into the group. Geoff’s blue eyes widened in shock as they locked onto the driver’s, and the brown eyed driver did likewise. All the leader could mutter was, “No fucking way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the shortness of this chapter; forgive me! I swear I’ll do my best to make it up next chapter!


End file.
